Dungeons in Disarray

The scene in the dungeons was reminiscent of a natural disaster zone. Or a war zone, which is precisely what it was. Debris lay in haphazard heaps across every visible bit of ground, and only one lone wall sconce still burned to cast dark shadows across the wreckage.

Amelia Lyons had only been able to reach the foot of the steps that led to the cavernous dungeon passageways, and even that had been a feat. She was glad she had chosen to wear tennis shoes instead of something more becoming of her new professorial position; in the end, practicality had won out over professionalism. And besides, many people didn't even know she had taken the potions professor position, and Amelia wasn't about to go broadcasting it. She didn't want to have to answer those questions any sooner than absolutely necessary.

It wasn't altogether surprising, considering her classroom for the academic year, that she had been assigned to the dungeons cleanup task force. Amelia was dressed in an old pair of running shorts and a plain white v-neck T-shirt with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail to keep in out of the way. She didn't think anyone else from her group could have gotten any further than she did without risking a sprained ankle or worse, so she assumed she was the first to arrive. Wanting to survey the damage as best she could, Amelia tapped her wand and set a few orbs of light out to dot the passageway and give her a better idea of what they would be up against.

((Cue all in my group!))

So this is what's left of Hogwarts after the battle... Hitame thought sadly, shaking her head. She hadn't imagined the damage was as bad as it was. There weren't alot of standing walls left. She was glad she had signed up to help re-build though, even though she was young, she could still help.

Hitame had been assigned to help clean up the dungeons, so she entered the castle, making her way to the dungeons. What a job it was, just to get to there, although it helped that she was a pretty good jumper. As she jumped over some of the rubble in her way she saw some orbs of light coming up from the corrider she was headed down. Well, at least she was going to be the first one there. She hated being first for things, it always had some kind of eerie feeling to it, and she didn't like it.

The best thing was that she wasn't wearing anything to immobilize her much. She wore a red with white shirt, under a black sleeveless hoodie(she cut the sleeves off) and black pants with white converse. She had her hood on her head, covering her eyes half the time, making it hard for her to see, so she took it off and let her hair slide out of it, and down her shoulders and back. As she continued to jump over the objects in her way she saw if got worse the further in she went, so she stopped and tied her hair up in a ponytail, and moved some of the rocks in the way to make it easier for others to come down. When she finished she moved on doing the same with small objects she could move by herself.

Hitame gaineed too much speed as she ran down the corridor, that when she tried to stop it took alost all her strength to just begin to slow down. But she managed to screech to a stop a few paces away from the other person who was already there.

Amelia was surveyed the piles of rubble and trying to triage the areas according to their priority level. Of course, the walkways would be the first things to deal with in order to give them access to the crumbling walls and heaven-knew-what in the classrooms. It was a daunting task, looking at all the damage that had been caused, and in the wake of seeing all of this, the memories of that night up in the tower came inching out of the back of Amelia's mind, poking at her consciousness in an effort to be recognized and then ruminated over for the thousandth time...

But just as Amelia's mind was beginning to be overwhelmed by the shadows of guilt and fear that had followed her this last month, a loud clattering noise from behind her distracted her attention enough to push the menacing thoughts away. Turning abruptly, Amelia jumped to her left to avoid a rockslide of what used to be dungeon wall and narrowly avoided being taken out by a dark-haired girl in a black sweatshirt.

“Close call, there,” Amelia said automatically, brushing specks from her shorts as the dust settled around them, “You may want to take it a little slower in the future, for both of our sakes.”

Reminder: no one actually put you in charge, here. Amelia’s conscious probed her as Amelia began to take on a leadership role so shortly after being joined by another person. It hadn’t been her intention whatsoever to designate herself as being in charge, but Amelia realized that if she kept up the way she was going, everyone was going to see her that way. Or as a bossy know-it-all, which wasn’t any better.

“Sorry,” Amelia muttered, fidgeting briefly with her fingers before extending a hand toward the younger girl, “I’m… Amelia,” the former Ravenclaw introduced, avoiding using the professor term just yet. That wouldn’t be very discreet at all.

It was not like Trent to want to do some volunteer work for the school. Heck, his mother would nag at him all the time for not working at all on maintaining some sanity in his room. If she knew he had volunteered himself to the reconstruction of Hogwarts, she would have shared a doubtful laugh with her husband about it. That would not happen, though. The boy had kept mum about his plans. Byron Bagman had convinced him to be here. The other boy had too much love for Hogwarts. Trent merely thought that he needed to put in more effort in his world. He was too much of a muggle that perhaps sometimes it worried him. Whoever sows in his kingdom reaps at least some of it, right? Well, Trent was going to let that motivate him for now. 

Trent had ditched his skateboard for the day, taking one of his father's brooms. Well, technically it was his father's. Dean Thomas had hidden the broom that he had used at Hogwarts. Well, not hidden. It was locked in a display cabinet in the living room at home. Trent was only allowed to use the broom that his father had bought after graduation. And this he used all the time, to the point that Dean was wondering why he even bothered to spend unnecessarily to get his son one as a gift on his eleventh birthday.

The weather for the day was scorching hot. Trent had don a thin cotton white shirt and a pair of turquoise bermudas, slipping his white skateboard shoes on before making his way to Hogwarts Castle, or what was left of it. Upon seeing the chaotic state of debris, Trent grumbled to himself about letting Byron persuade him into this. But he was here already, and he was going to try to make good of this opportunity. Positivity was key here.

Unfortunately, Trent saw that Byron was assigned to the Pitch. He would have loved that. The dungeons he could care less about, but he reminded himself to keep an open mind for today. He was sober, and the only things that could be lit up in his pocket were merely normal cigarettes. This meant he would be having a clear mind, and perhaps his assigned group would rather appreciate that.

Trying not to think about lighting up a cigarette from pure habit, the boy cautiously made his way to the dungeons. He had gotten a slight cut at his shin along the way, and so he decided that it was right that his mind was clear or he could have lost a limb or two. Gradually, Trent found himself looking, amidst the rubble, at two other individuals. He recognised Amelia Lyons, although he was sure she did not know who he was. The other girl was a Gryffindor, but she was probably too young for him to have known her. 

Making his way closer to the two girls, Trent offered what he thought to be his friendly smile. He felt a little awkward trying to fight his way through the mess because his limbs felt too long and awkward. "Hello there," Trent finally offered. 

„Good lord...“ Miseria whispered when she reached the dungeons. The place was full of ruins. Miseria was glad that she actually had signed up for this. There was nothing much left of Hogwarts, but after every group will be finished, the old school will be open again, hopefully stronger than ever.
She was happy that she was chosen to reconstruct the dungeons. It was close to Hufflepuff’s common room, and now she had a chance to take a look of what’s left of it. If there was Anything to see.

Miseria was wearing her black jeans with a t-shirt. For the first time she left her chains at home. Her clothes were already dusty for getting into the dungeons, and almost falling down several times. She was still wearing her favourite combat boots but they weren’t high heeled like always. This time they were more comfortable than ever, although, it was really hard for her to get used to those.

She pulled out her wand from the pocket, and looked around. She wasn’t the first one there. Amelia, Hitame and one Gryffindor student were already there. „Good day,“ she smiled at them, feeling rather odd to be here. She never spoke to anyone of those, and now they were a group. God, hopefully they didn’t have a captain here. She’d never take any orders from anyone. „Miseria Lupin.“

When her hesitant introduction fell flat with the young Gryffindor girl, Amelia withdrew her hand and her fidgeting resumed. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself now that she had offered an introduction. The girl wasn’t offering any feedback, and Amelia didn’t want to sound bossy again. After about a minute of silence, there was a clatter of noise as another set of footsteps could be heard coming down the dungeon steps, and Amelia turned to see a boy with a mop of brown hair coming down the steps. Amelia couldn’t identify him, but his presence here must mean he was part of the dungeon task force, so she may as well go through yet another round of introductions.

Before she could respond to the boy’s greeting, another student arrived, and at least this one she knew. This was Miseria, and although Amelia and the Hufflepuff weren’t by any definition close friends, she could at least identify her. A small wave of relief rolled over Amelia’s body, and she tried to let go of some of the tension she was condensing into her shoulders and hands. The sooner they started working, the better Amelia would feel. At least then it would feel like she wasn’t completely powerless.

“And I’m Amelia,” the former Ravenclaw added to Miseria’s introduction, looking to each companion in turn to attempt the diplomacy her parents always managed with ease. As her gaze dropped to the floor near the lone male member of their posse, Amelia noticed the cut on his lower leg, frowning slightly.

“You want me to take care of that for you?” Amelia asked, gesturing toward the cut, “With the concentration of dirt down here, it will be hard to avoid infection otherwise. Then we can get started on trying to clear away some of this rubble.”

Amelia Lyons, ever the fixer. Now if only she could fix problems larger than a scrape and a cluttered hallway, her life would be much simpler.

Hitame hadn't quite heard what the older girl had said to her. She had been drawn back into her mind, thinking about the damage done all through Hogwarts and how happy she was her little sister hadn't signed up to help. She wouldn't have been able to handle the damage, she loved Hogwarts and seeing it like this would crush her. Hitame could handle it better, she's seen worse, so that helped her keep calm after seeing all the rubble. What brought her back was seeing the girl withdraw her hand, which Hitame hadn't even seen her extend toward her.

She shook her head slightly to clear her mind, and noticed two more people had arrived. At lease she knew one person there, although she didn't know her very well. She looked back at the girl who had introduced herself as Amelia, and sighed. "I'm sorry. My name is Hitame." she said, her words directed at Amelia. She turned to face the other two and smiled. "Hello." she said.

She lowered her gaze to the ground, and noticed Amelia pointing to the boy's cut on his leg. It didn't seem to be infected yet, but it would be soon. "She's right. Better safe than sorry." Hitame said softly, looking at the boy. "Do you want any help?" she asked Amelia. She thought the older girl wouldn't want any help from her, because she was just a little girl.

As soon as Trent greeted the first two girls, a third one came with hers. He turned to smile at her briefly before he turned his attention to the other two. It felt strange to be standing in the middle of disarray with strangers. A party or some dinner would be a much better setting. Trent felt a little awkward but he nodded at Amelia when she introduced herself. Her introduction was soon followed by the young Gryffindor girl, and Trent nodded at her too.

And then the attention turned to that cut at his shin. The boy felt slightly embarrassed, and wanted to pretend that the cut did not matter. He thought it looked weak to have to be attended to, or to even have his cut acknowledged. But Trent took the better judgement when Amelia laid out very logically that it could get infected. The last thing the boy wanted was to sustain an injury that could be more damaging than a slight cut that should heal in a day.

Nodding again, Trent looked from Hitame to Amelia. "Yes, will you please?" He replied in what he thought to be in the most polite way that he could muster. He was thankful that it seems like people from his group look like a caring bunch, although the attention on his cut was not what he wanted. He wanted to get it done and over with, and move on to doing the bigger task.

Trent remembered, though, to smile appreciatively to Amelia. He had heard from Byron that the girl gave a fitting speech at Hogwarts Graduation, fitting because it was something expected from her -- logical, proper, reasonable -- basically everything that Trent had been accused by his parents for not being. Amelia sounded to Trent exactly like what his parents would have wanted. He sighed and waited.

Amelia nodded when the younger girl introduced herself, easily identifying with the girl having been in her own world when Amelia made her original greeting. The former Ravenclaw had spent many of her Hogwarts years living inside her own mind, and she could easily have made precisely the same mistake. Of course, when Hitame had done it, Amelia had found it annoying, but it would have been hypocritical of her to snap at the girl who was just behaving the same way Amelia had when she was 13… and 16.

Then, before the boy could answer whether Amelia should mend his cut, Hitame was offering to help. Amelia had to swallow back her automatic response of, ‘I can do it myself,’ and force herself to nod with what she hoped was something close to an appreciative smile. In truth, Amelia was far too independent a person to accept help from anyone if she could help it, and this situation hardly called for two people. The cut was small, and Amelia could have easily managed on her own, but she didn’t need to be alienating herself so early in the repair project. She would be spending a good deal of time with these people over the next week or so, and she was determined to start working on her communication skills now. Heaven knew she would need them in the classroom in the fall.

A moment later, the boy with the skater shoes agreed to Amelia suggestion that he get his leg looked at, and without hesitating, Amelia dropped to one knee to look at the wound more closely. It was a clean cut, considering, though there were a few bits of dirt still clinging to the skin around the primary wound.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Amelia said aloud, more for Hitame’s benefit than the boy’s. She had been trying, while she was kneeling, to think of a way to let the younger girl help, but there really wasn’t anything for her to do, “This will only take a second.”

Raising her wand, Amelia pressed the tip of the wood to a spot just above the cut, and cast aguamenti to clear the majority of the dirt away with water. Then she cast a quick spell against infection on the wound itself before closing it with a simple healing charm. Throughout the process, she hadn’t said any words aloud – thank you, professors, for constantly demanding non-verbal magic – and in less than a minute, Amelia was standing back to her full height, and nothing but smooth skin appeared on the boy’s leg, only slightly more pink than the area around it.

“That should do it,” Amelia said, brushing dirt from the knee that had been resting on the ground and seeing the grooves the gravel had left in her skin.

“So who’s ready to get started?” Amelia said, wanting to get things moving. The longer they stood idly around, the longer she would have to make small talk, and Amelia was far more apt with a wand than with her words.

“I think the first thing to do is clear the corridor of debris, so we can probably go ahead and do that. I wouldn’t recommend using reducto, because it may cause more harm than good considering the already compromised structural integrity, but other spells should be fine. Levitate what you can off to the side, and perhaps if anyone is good with reduction charms he or she could shrink some of the larger pieces. Scourgify will also be useful, considering the mess down here.”

“So um….” Amelia stuttered, blushing as she realized she had been talking far too much and slipping back into that ‘I-am-automatically-the-leader’ role that she had wanted to avoid.

“I guess, have at her,” Amelia said, turning abruptly toward the corridor and getting to work on a particularly large pile of what might have once been a wall, giving herself time to let the blush calm down before she interacted with anyone again.

Trent almost jerked at the spurt of water from Amelia's wand, since it made his wound sting for a second. But the boy stood his ground, making sure he revealed no weakness. He would have, if it was a giant wound. Soon enough, a sensation was felt at his shin, and Trent watched as his wound closed up nicely. He waited for the girl to stand up again, before he smiled appreciatively. "Thanks Amelia." And then he realised that he had failed to introduce himself. It merely slipped out of his mind. "Oh-uh. I forgot. I'm Trent." He directed that at a general space between the girls.

As soon as that was said, Amelia began to take charge. Trent did not mind it at all. He minded whenever people started to cramp his style. Mostly, if they got too bossy, he would start to rebel against it. Now, though, it was a fair instruction, nothing he could not appreciate, since he had looked at the rubble and felt lost already. It looked almost as messy as his room. Trent nodded to Amelia, as if acknowledging her instructions, before starting off on his own. He chose a random spot which was a distance away from the others, since it made sense to spread out to do the work.

Standing there looking at the blocks and chips and whatnots of debris, Trent brought out his wand, glad to be using it again. He picked his first block and began to concentrate, using the spells that Amelia had suggested, and that he had been taught in school. For the first time in summer, it felt as if his brain began to work again. He had been pretty much left to the dust as he idled around, especially with muggles.